The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

All of Arnold's resentment had flown right out the window the moment he saw Asher.

Asher said, "You must've been worn out over the past few days. You haven't eaten yet, right?"

He lifted the plastic bag in his hand, waving it in front of Arnold. "I remember you saying you don't eat carbs, but if you're feeling pressured or exhausted, you would reward yourself with some fried chicken. I bought fried chicken for you. I'm not sure which flavor you like, so I bought a few."

Arnold's throat bobbed, salivating with anticipation.

In the end, he still let the man in.

However, Arnold maintained a little of his pride and gave Asher a cold face, sitting on the chair indifferently as he tried hard not to look at the handsome man.

"As a doctor, saving lives is my duty. Even if it's not Chairman Thompson, I'll still do my best. You don't need to be so polite."

"Are you mad?" Ignoring his indifference, Asher asked softly instead.

Arnold's eyelashes fluttered. "Who... Who's mad?"

mad,

face flushed, and he subconsciously glanced at the mirror on the

tightly pursed, and his eyes and nose were red, looking

from the plastic bag and opened the boxes, placing them in front of Arnold. He had

was hoarse, carrying a hint

heart skipped a beat, and he met Asher's deep gaze in

father is sick. I am the eldest son.

quickly grabbed a fried chicken and took a

he stared at him. "Eat

ketchup next time. My favorite is still the original flavor dipped

a drumstick while sizing him up, his lips curling in a satisfied angle.

"Yes." Asher nodded seriously.

suddenly leaned toward him, his pretty face magnifying in Asher's eyes. "Then do you like the suit more or

His dark eyes glinted with charm, drawing